Chapter 6

"Don't dare?"

A cold laugh escaped from my throat without warning, dripping with bloody mockery.

I didn't know if I was laughing at his blindness, or at my own stupidity for flying into the flames like a moth. My eyes burned and swelled, yet not a single tear would fall.

I could even clearly feel something in my chest tearing apart inch by inch, shattering into sharp fragments that cut back and forth with every breath, hurting so much I almost wanted to curl up. My vision was filled with images of him protecting Amelia.

So this was what extreme disappointment feels like—I couldn't even cry.

I pointed at Amelia, who was hiding behind James, covering her face and sobbing. My voice trembled with extreme anger, yet echoed unusually clearly in the hallway.

"If she hadn't deliberately cried and twisted the truth in front of Grandma, how would Grandma have ended up like this?"

At the mention of Indigo, James's expression wavered slightly.

"James, tell me, did she deserve that slap or not?" My question was like a sharp knife, trying to cut through the fog of favoritism before his eyes.

Amelia seemed to sense his change, and her body shook even harder.

She lifted her tear-stained face, tugging at James's sleeve, and slowly spoke. "James, don't blame Sophia. I deserved it."

"If Jasper were here, he'd hit me too, wouldn't he?"

Her voice was soft, falling by James's ear, but it made him frown deeply.

"What right do you have to mention Jasper?" I couldn't help but snap back. James's response was to raise his hand high.

After a long moment, his hand never came down. Instead, his gaze swept over me like a cold front, freezing everything in its path, even the heat from our argument instantly dropping to freezing point. "That's enough."

My tears spilled from my eyes against my will. The violent emotional turmoil, combined with the mixed smells in the hospital corridor, suddenly assaulted my senses.

A strong wave of nausea surged up from my stomach without warning. Before I could say anything more, I covered my mouth, turned around, and stumbled toward the restroom at the end of the hallway.

I rushed into a stall, locked the door, and began retching violently over the toilet.

My stomach was completely empty, and only bitter bile kept rising, burning my throat and esophagus.

Cold sweat immediately soaked my temples. My vision kept going black, and the feeling of exhaustion made me barely able to stand.

There was a knock at the door.

Then came a familiar voice.

"Sophia."

I wiped the mess from the corner of my mouth, my heart involuntarily stirring. His voice had always been pleasant.

I remembered when I first entered the Smith Mansion, he had taken my hand and led me into my room.

He had called my name just like this, comforting me.

"From now on, this is your home."

That day, the sunlight was especially beautiful, slanting across his shoulders, as if coating him in gold.

Having never experienced family warmth, I thought he was an angel.

"Stop pretending."

The same voice, only he would never say those words to me again.

I forced myself to press the flush button and used all my strength to open the stall door.

James stood right at the entrance, his tall figure blocking the way. He looked down at my pale, miserable face, a mocking smile on his lips. "Why stop pretending? Can't throw up anymore?"

I lifted my head, looking through blurred tears at his figure, somewhat similar to that day, except now all that surrounded him was coldness.

A dull discomfort came from my lower abdomen, reminding me of the baby growing inside.

I thought of the diagnostic report torn to pieces by Isabella, of Robert's suspicious "misdiagnosis," of Indigo still lying in bed with her life hanging in the balance...

A deep sense of powerlessness and exhaustion engulfed me like a tide.

All my arguments, all my explanations, lost their meaning in this moment.

He wouldn't believe me.

He had already convicted me in his heart.

About that night, he only believed his eyes and Amelia's false account.

And my truth was nothing more than a criminal's flawed excuses to him.

I raised my hand, roughly wiping away the tears and mess on my face with my sleeve. My voice was hoarse from vomiting, but carried a deathly calm.

I looked at him, my gaze relaxed, even with a faint smile on my lips.

Perhaps my calmness was too abnormal, or perhaps the deadness in my eyes made him feel a bit uneasy.

James froze for a moment, his brows furrowing tightly, his eyes examining me with a complex expression.

More than anything, it was anger.

He seemed completely enraged by my attitude of giving up the struggle.

"Nothing to say?" He stepped closer, the powerful pressure making me instinctively retreat until my back hit the cold tile wall.

"Sophia, you start trouble, hit someone, and think you can just walk away without a word? Who do you think you are? Someone who can do whatever they want without facing consequences?"

His tone was firm and unquestionable.

"Go home and reflect on what you did wrong!"

I thought he would make me pay dearly for Amelia's sake, but surprisingly, he told me to go home.

If his tone wasn't so harsh, I might have naively thought he was concerned about me.

"I'm not leaving!" I protested. "I need to stay here with Grandma!"

"You don't have a choice!" He completely lost his patience, grabbing my wrist, not allowing me any chance to break free.

He stopped looking at me and barked orders at the bodyguards and driver waiting at the other end of the hallway.

"Take her home. Without my permission, she's not allowed to leave the Smith Mansion."

"James, you can't do this. Let me go!"

I struggled desperately, fear and anger surging up again.

He was going to lock me up?

Right after I found out I was pregnant, while Indigo lay unconscious?

But my strength was nothing compared to his.

Two bodyguards walked up expressionlessly, one on each side, practically forcing me away from the bathroom entrance, away from the hospital corridor.

As I was pushed into the car, I looked back.

James stood in the light and shadow at the hospital entrance, his figure upright but cold. He didn't look at me, but turned and walked back, toward Amelia, who was still crying.

My heart, in that moment, sank completely to the bottom.

The car pulled away from the hospital. I leaned against the window, watching the rapidly retreating streetscape outside, feeling cold all over.

He thought he hated me, that he was punishing my immaturity.

Back at the cold, empty the Smith Mansion, I couldn't sit still.

Thinking that Indigo might need some of her personal items she was used to, and that I had rushed to the hospital too quickly earlier, without bringing anything.

I forced myself to calm down and packed some of Indigo's favorite soft pillows, blankets, and daily necessities, preparing to return to the hospital.

No matter what, I absolutely couldn't leave Indigo there alone.

It was precisely this decision to return that led me to overhear that conversation that would push me completely into the abyss.